


Triptych

by lirin



Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairing, F/M, Vignette Sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/pseuds/lirin
Summary: Natasha and Eliot have a history. Or at least, their paths have crossed a few times.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48
Collections: 300bpm Flash Exchange November 2019





	1. Tomorrow I'll Be Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Well we know I'm going away_   
>  _And how I wish, I wish it weren't so_
> 
> —"[Save Tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnEdUVBjZfo)" (Eagle-Eye Cherry)

Natalia is a very sweet girl. Eliot would almost feel bad about loving her and leaving her, but hopefully she knows just as well as he does that their relationship has an expiration date. For her, having grown up on a tiny farm in an impoverished village in the middle of nowhere, being a secretary in the capital is as good as it will ever get. But she can't expect that an American soldier—he hasn't told her exactly what he does, but he's dropped a few hints and she at least has an idea he's in the military—would have any interest in staying in this tiny Eastern European country any longer than he had to.

And tomorrow, one way or another, the op will be over, and he's been ordered to leave town immediately afterwards. He buys a bottle of the most expensive wine he can find at the tiny shop on the corner before he heads up to Natalia's apartment. He can afford it, with the bonus he'll be getting when he gets back to the States.

It's been clean sailing so far. His superiors told him that the Russians are rumored to have sent an agent, but if they have, he's keeping a low profile, because Eliot hasn't seen anybody skulking around besides himself. It's too bad. For once, the US and Russia have a common interest: neither one of them wants the minister of finance to survive tomorrow's gala. If he ran across the Russian agent, maybe Eliot could convince him to work together with him.

But it's probably better this way. Eliot doesn't need any Russian entanglements.

Cute little entanglements from a tiny former USSR country, however, he doesn't particularly mind. He knocks gently on Natalia's door.

"Eliot!" she greets him enthusiastically, jumping into his arms. 

He spins her around and around, kicking the door shut behind him at the same time. "Hey, honey," he says. "Careful, you'll make me drop the wine."

She takes the bottle from him and looks approvingly at the bottle. "You shouldn't have!" she says with a giggle.

"It's in the way of an apology, I'm afraid," Eliot says. "I have to leave tomorrow, to go back to the States. I wish it weren't so—I don't want to leave you, these last few weeks have been fantastic, but my boss—hey, hey, please don't cry."

"I knew this couldn't last forever," she sniffles, "but I'd hoped..."

She turns away to dab at her tears, and Eliot takes the wine bottle into the kitchen to give her some privacy. He pours two glasses, and by the time he comes back into the living room, she's composed herself. She lights some candles on the mantelpiece while he drags the room's only two chairs over in front of the fireplace, and they sit there side by side and drink the wine. It's not half bad.

"We've still got tonight," Eliot says. "Let's make it a good one."

She looks up at him and smiles, and then he kisses her. They never do get around to finishing the rest of the bottle of wine. (He leaves it on her kitchen counter when he slips out the next morning at dawn. A girl like her probably doesn't get expensive treats like that very often.)

***

He doesn't see any sign of the Russian agent at the gala, but the minister chokes to death during his opening speech without Eliot having to do anything, so he can only assume that the Russian had something to do with that. He still got the rest of the intel his superiors wanted, so it doesn't really matter if he or somebody else made the final move. Eliot heads for the airport and is back in the States within 24 hours.

***

A month and two ops later, the general calls him into his office and slides a folder across the desk. "New intel from Russia," he says. "We've found out who the agent who took out the minister of finance may have been. Have you heard of the Black Widow?"

"Not sure," Eliot says. "Sounds vaguely familiar." He flips the folder open, and nearly drops it when he sees her photo.

(He should have taken the rest of the wine with him, after all. That stuff was expensive.)


	2. If I Ever Cross Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door_   
>  _Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before_
> 
> —"[Need You Now](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eM213aMKTHg)" (Lady Antebellum)

When their paths finally cross for the second time, it's in Paris of all places. Eliot's meeting with a potential employer for a job in Madrid, and Natalia—the Widow—Natasha—whatever she wants to call herself—well, she's probably in between jobs because Eliot heard about a dustup in Monaco last week that sounded like her style, but he doesn't know of anything that would be going down in Paris anytime soon.

It's probably only coincidence that they're staying at the same hotel. There's only so many places one can stay in this quarter of the city, after all, and Eliot's always thought that this quarter was the nicest part of Paris. Not the fanciest, but it has a certain charm that the more touristy areas can't compete with. It's probably complete coincidence, but that doesn't make her any less dangerous.

Eliot's not in the army anymore; he doesn't have to worry about a Russian entanglement messing up his security clearance. But she'd lied to him, and Eliot doesn't particularly like being lied to. So he makes sure he knows her hotel room number—that's just good spycraft, after all—but then he turns around and doesn't follow her and stomps down the stairs to the hotel bar instead. He orders a double whiskey on the rocks and thinks about her pretty red hair. And that thing her intel folder said she could do with her legs.

And the way she'd deceived him, and the way she had led him on for weeks. He'd really thought they had a connection, and _he_ hadn't lied to her. He hadn't told her why he was in town, but he'd told her he was American military, and he had been.

She'd looked great, there in the hall. If anything, she's gotten even more attractive over the last five years. Or maybe that's because she's no longer styling herself the way a secretary with good taste but no money would. Her current look—her current role, he supposes—has both taste and money. And very nice legs.

Despite everything, after the next shot of whiskey, he has an idea. After yet another shot of whiskey, it even starts to sound like a good idea. There's a phone at the end of the bar. Before he can change his mind, he picks it up and asks for room 279. "Care to join me for a drink?" he asks when she picks up.

"Why, Mr. Spencer, I thought you'd never ask!" (So she _had_ seen him when he'd seen her earlier, after all. Either that or she knew he'd be at this hotel before she got here. He hopes for the former.)

She comes sweeping in to the bar a few minutes later, looking terribly familiar and yet not particularly familiar at all. "I'll have what you're having," she says.

He orders two more whiskeys. "Still working for the Russians?" he asks, keeping his voice quiet so enough that it's unlikely to be overheard in the noisy bar. "You could have told me."

"You know I couldn't," she says in the same tone. "And no, I'm on the same side as you now."

"Army or CIA?"

"SHIELD, actually. You know, you seem like the sort of person they might be interested in recruiting. Have they ever asked you?"

"Once or twice. But I prefer to work alone." The bartender brings their whiskeys over, and they clink the glasses together. "But I don't need to be alone all the time. I was thinking of making an exception for tonight, as a matter of fact. What do you think?"

She has a pretty smile. It's not quite as wide as the one he remembers from years ago, but he hopes that maybe that means it's actually her real smile. "Might be fun. How long are you in the city for?"

"I only need to be here until the weekend, but I can stay for another week after that if I'm having a good time. You?"

"I can take the time," she says.


	3. I Won't Let You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just don't give up_   
>  _I'm working it out_
> 
> —"[Whataya Want from Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcQNmQdVhlY)" (Adam Lambert)

Eliot never sees Natasha's name in the headlines, but he sees her fingerprints. SHIELD does good work, and so does she. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to work for a group like SHIELD. He doesn't miss the army, and he likes being his own boss, but somewhere like that, where you had some freedom to work the way you wanted but still have somewhere to get backup and support from—sometimes he thinks it might be nice.

Then he ends up in a team of his own, and he's pretty sure that working for Leverage is even better than working for SHIELD. He's helping people, he has—not quite friends, but they're getting there. He doesn't think about SHIELD much these days, or Natasha either. He hasn't seen her since Paris. They'd been friendly enough when they'd parted, but it had just been a fling for both of them, nothing worth exchanging phone numbers over. Hardison could probably find contact information for her (Hardison would _definitely_ take issue with that "probably", but then Agent Romanoff is one of the few people who might actually be a challenge for Hardison; her records are sure to be scrubbed clean, and Eliot doubts she has any sort of online presence at all) but it's probably better to let sleeping dogs lie.

Then SHIELD collapses, and Natasha _does_ make the headlines for a while. Eliot's not sure whether he should try to get in touch or not. He emails the only address he can find that might possibly be hers, but either it isn't hers or he was too cryptic or she doesn't want to talk to him. She's probably got an entirely new identity by this point, anyway. He tries to put the whole thing behind him and forget about her.

It's a few months after that, and he's frankly been doing a pretty good job of not thinking of Natasha at all, when his phone rings and the caller ID is completely blank. Not an unfamiliar number or "unlisted", but nothing at all. And he's absolutely sure nobody outside of the Leverage team has this number. "Hello?"

"Care to join me for a drink?" And of course it's Natasha, or whatever she's calling herself these days.

"Are you in town, or is that a metaphorical question?"

"I'm right outside your building. Nice place, by the way."

He sticks his head out the window, and sure enough, she's not lying. She's dyed her hair some kind of boring brown shade, but it's definitely her. He hangs up and hurries for the stairs.

It's a bit too early in the morning for drinks, so they go to the coffee shop on the corner instead. Just a man and a woman on a date, nothing to see here at all. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Eliot's not really sure where to start. "Do you want something from me, or are you just here to admire the view?" he asks finally.

"Did you hear about HYDRA?" she replies.

"I read about it in the newspaper," he says.

"They're still all over," she says. "We wiped out the heart of the cancer, but they still have cells all over."

Eliot contemplates that metaphor for a moment. "You still haven't said what you want from me."

"Not just you. I want to hire your team."

"I don't—"

"The Avengers are going after HYDRA as fast as they can, but they aren't the best tool to use against some of the cells." She slides a folder across the table. "This cell is embedded in a Los Angeles investment firm. And as I understand it, Leverage Consulting and Associates has a lengthy history of conning wealthy businesspeople. It should be a very simple target."

"You've done your research," Eliot says. He pages through the folder. It definitely looks like one of their usual targets; there's half a dozen different ways the team could take them down. "I can't agree to a job on my own," he says. "I'll have to talk to the others and then get back to you."

She hands him another piece of paper. "This is my number. Memorize that, then burn it, and please _don't_ program the number into your phone."

"Or we could meet in person," Eliot says. "Dinner tomorrow night?"

"I wish I could," she says. "But I have an appointment with a HYDRA cell in Madrid first thing tomorrow morning." She finishes her coffee and stands up.

He follows her to the door. "So this is all you want from me, huh? Just some help with your dirty work?"

She sighs. "I thought we were friends. And I need help. Yes, it's with dirty work, because I hardly have any other sort of work these days. Do you want to help me or not? And if not for me, then for the United States. For the world."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just thought, maybe..."

"I scarcely have time to catch my breath, these days," she says. "I don't even know what I want. But this time next year, once HYDRA's gone, ask me again?"

"Will you still have the same phone number?"

"If not, I'll let you know," she promises. "And Eliot...that goes for even if your team decides not to take the job. Call me anyway."

"I'm pretty sure they'll take it," Eliot says. "They don't think much of HYDRA."

"Nor should they."

"We won't let you down," he says. " _I_ won't let you down."

"I know you won't," she replies. "That's why I came to you." She looks at her watch. "I really do have to go."

"Next time you visit, make sure to leave time for me to treat you to dinner!" Eliot calls after her. He's sure there will be a next time. The only thing standing in their way is an international network of terrorists. Natasha is more than capable of taking them down, and so are the Avengers. And if they find themselves in over their heads? Well, now they have Leverage.


End file.
